Page 37 of The Curse of Blood and Silenc

“Why are you here, Rankin?”

He shrugged, the gesture too casual to be anything but calculated. “This little war of yours could threaten my empire, Santi. I’m here to make sure my interests are protected.”

“Bullshit. You want to know if Trystan is working with Balthazar.” I didn’t bother framing it as a question.

“Let’s just say I have a vested interest in the matter.”

I nodded, weighing his words against what I knew of him. Keir played his own game—always had. I wasn’t naive enough to think he was on my side, but at the same time, he surely wasn’t stupid enough to trust Balthazar. The demon’s reputation for betrayal was as legendary as his cruelty.

Trystan was about to learn a hard lesson about dealing with demons. By the time this was over, his little power play would explode in his face—and I’d make sure to be standing far enough back to enjoy the show, but close enough to twist the knife.

Gage narrowed his eyes that went from brown to gold. “You don’t scare me, vampire.”

“Oh, that’s adorable.” Dimitri touched the last trace of a bruise on his jaw. “I said something similar just last week. Spoiler”—he gestured at his healing face with a theatrical flourish—“it didn’t end well. But hey, knock yourself out, keep poking the homicidal vampire. I’ll just stand back here and watch. Anyone bring popcorn?”

The gold in Gage’s eyes flickered, his gaze darting between my cold smile and Dimitri’s fresh bruises. Keir sighed heavily, like a teacher dealing with a particularly obtuse student. “You’re not really that foolish, are you, wolf? Santi’s one step from declaring war and you’re acting like he’s a kid in a mask. Would you like me to list the body count from his last territorial dispute, or shall we skip the history lesson and move on to the part where you fucking take us to Trystan?”

“Trystan did say to let them in, Gage,” Stalker muttered as he opened the door.

I brushed past Gage. One false move, and forget the Moonfall blade, I’d just drain him dry. I didn’t bother waiting for Trystan’s men to show me to him. I knew where the little puppy held court.

Two guards flanked the study door, hands on their weapons. I didn’t bother with ceremony. One moment I was standingoutside the door, the next I’d torn through it with a crack that echoed through the mansion like a gunshot.

Trystan sat behind his mahogany desk, playing king. Above him, a massive painting of his white wolf dominated the wall—all fangs and fury, intended to remind visitors what lurked just beneath his tailored suit. Cheap theatrics. My black wolf was equally as massive and deadly when I chose to transform into it, and I didn’t need wall art to advertise it.

“Santi.” His lips curved into that insufferable smile that had started wars before. “Why so impatient?”

The room reeked of arrogance and lies. I was done playing these games, pretending at civility. I moved around the desk in a blur of vampire speed, hands already reaching for his throat.

Steel-strong fingers locked around my arm, yanking me back. Fae strength, face speed. Both surprising and infuriating.

“Not yet,” Keir gritted between his teeth, his usual diplomatic mask cracking. When Fae or Dark Fae moved, they moved like lightning. Right now, luckily for Trystan, Keir was the only thing standing between the wolf king and a very messy death at my hands.

I wrenched free of his grip, my fangs aching to descend. But Keir was right—we needed to play this smart. “Show him, Dimitri.”

“A little present.” Dimitri’s smirk had hardened into something darker as he tossed the burner phone onto Trystan’s desk. It landed like a thousand accusations. “Next time you decide to make secret calls to demons, maybe don’t do it in vampire territory.”

The phone sat between us like a loaded gun. Trystan’s smile didn’t waver, but something flickered in his eyes—calculation, maybe, or fear. Either way, he knew the game had just changed.

Trystan stared at the phone, his face a mask of practiced neutrality. “Where did you get that?”

The Moonfall blade whispered against silk as I drew it from my jacket. The sacred steel caught the light, hungry for wolf blood. “Never mind. How about you tell me where Serenity is.”

Keir stepped forward, his voice poison. “I suggest you tell us the truth, Trystan.” His eyes fixed on the wolf king. “Is that phone yours?”

Trystan flipped through the messages with the casual air of a man reading a dinner menu, not evidence that could start a war. But there were tells—a slight tightening around his eyes, a finger hesitating over certain texts.

Stalker’s face had drained of color, the blood abandoning ship before the storm hit. But Gage wore a smirk that spoke volumes. It was the kind of expression a man gets when he finally sees his boss cornered and doesn’t hate it. Interesting.

“Bring Ivan to me.” Trystan’s eyes flicked to Gage, cold as winter steel.

The smirk vanished from Gage’s face like it had been slapped off. He left without a word, his footsteps just a little too quick.

I let Moonfall dance between my fingers, the blade catching the light with each turn. The weapon’s presence made the air heavy, charged with the promise of violence. “Are you saying that burner phone isn’t yours?”

“No.” Trystan’s voice was steady, reasonable. Perfect for a lie. “But I paid for it. It belongs to one of my enforcers—Ivan Toser. He said he lost it.” His eyes met mine, a clear challenge in them. “How did this fall into your hands?”

Dimitri glanced at me, one eyebrow arching, clearly asking permission to drop the bomb.

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